I leaned back against him and thought about going home. Not with dread. Not with the weight of everything waiting. Just the regular anticipation of returning somewhere that belonged to you after you'd been away from it for a while.
The compound was going to feel different when we got back. Not because anything had changed about it. But because I was different. I was going back engaged and pregnant and more certain about where I was supposed to be than I'd ever been about anything in my life.
That was new.
A few months ago I'd been counting tip at The Spoke and sleeping in a storage room and telling myself that was fine. That fine was enough. That a life without roots was simpler anyway and simpler was safer and safer was all that mattered when you were running from someone who knew your
